


Lupercalia

by KateKintail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Common Cold, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set on February 15th 2003, Sirius must do a little bit of convincing to get a cold-ridden Remus to celebrate Lupercalia in their traditional way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lupercalia

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I write this only in fun and mean no harm at all.

Sitting at the cherry wood table amidst a pile of papers. He was sucking the quill in his mouth as he leafed through a book. Sucking… very alluringly… without meaning to be anything but thoughtful. But he was nothing short of extraordinary in my eyes, no matter what he did. And I went to him, hands running down his sides, my body pressed to the back of his chair.

“Sirius,” he breathed, looking up from the text, craning his neck the get me into view. “I’m trying to work.”

“You can’t work tonight,” I told him, one hand drawing an imaginary laurel of olive leaves amidst his graying brown hair. His presence was intoxicating, overwhelming, and if I weren’t able to do work, neither could he.

He shook his head, as if freeing himself from his invisible crown. “No I…” and his voice died down. His head snapped to the side, his arm rose off the table, his nose pressed into his shoulder. “ehh-Chuhh! ehh-Ihtchh!”

“Blesses,” I murmur, and sweep my hand over his forehead as though anointing him with blood. It was warm, too warm to be a normal temperature, but too cool to be a fever that needed fussing over. It was my fault, really, all my fault. Yesterday, on Valentine’s, I couldn’t stand to be without him another second, even as we were walking home from dinner. And I jumped him then and there, rolling in the snow as lovers. He willingly became a wolf, and I a dog, and our fur protected us a bit from the dampness as we made love in a snowdrift.

“ehh-hihtch!” he sneezed again and lifted his head, rubbing his wrist at his nose as if it were his paw. My fault he had a sniffle. All my fault. My delightfully randy fault. I was surprised, really, that I hadn’t caught cold either. But perhaps the strength of my libido provided me with some sort of immunity that Remus’ didn’t when he was on his back, taking it from me. Or perhaps it was because I had him face down in the snow as I humped him. “I’m just not sure we should,” he said, sniffling and looking almost embarrassed about it.

My hands reached his shoulders now, massaging lovingly, tenderly, hoping to convince him to abandon his work. “I don’t want to hear it,” I told him plainly, pressing my front into his back, hard and stiff. “It’s a holiday and we’re going to celebrate.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking up at me. “You want to strip naked and run through the streets lashing people with bloody goat skins?”

I looked as though I were considering just that for a moment, then shook my head. “No… I’d just settle for a virility sacrifice,” I told him, bending down and biting him hard on the neck, sucking, pinching, as I reached down and rubbed roughly at his crotch.

As his breath caught, he tried to push me away, but I wasn’t having any of that. If he needed to sneeze, so be it. I would continue to decorate and touch him all I liked. “Siri…” he gasped, rubbing at his nose to get rid of the tickles. “I need… to…”

“And I need you,” I breathed, sinking my teeth down into the curve between neck and shoulder.

“ihh-Hitchh! Hetchhh!” He shook in his chair, sniffling. “I know, but I don’t feel so well—“

“More the better.” I waved my wand and two glasses appeared with a bottle of wine pouring out for us. “We shall be healed,” I growled, reached onto the table and lifting the glass to his lips. He took a short sip, then a longer second, and took the glass from me on the third to enjoy at his own discretion. I grinned and took the other glass, the red wine reminiscent of blood, the taste rich and sweet and shocking to the senses. I had the overwhelming urge to tear into some red meat and hump the first warm body that came at me.

“Hehttchhh! Hurtchuhh!” he sneezed again, weakly, head bobbing. But he smiled lazily afterwards, licking his lips at the last of his wine. “Virility, you say, Sirius?”

And like a pup on his packmake, I pounced, knocking him sideways off his chair and onto the floor. He on his back, and I on top, but not for long. Today was the fifteenth, the glorious Lupercalia. And tomorrow was the sixteenth and the full moon would transform him into Moony once more and he would be forced to obey. But now… now he still had the power and I would be damned if I didn’t make him see that. See that, and use it.

I tugged at the buttons and tore back his shirt as his hand plunged beneath the waistband of my pants. It grasped hold of what it met it, hard and ready. Upon their reemergence, my belt and zipper were quickly and skillfully undone. My pants dropped to my knees where they were to remain, and his hands both found their way at once to my warm rear.

I smothered my face in his chest as he rubbed my cheeks. I tore off his shirt with hands like claws and teeth like a canine’s. I pulled down his zipper as well to take him, warm and stiff, into my mouth straight away. His warm sweetness at the tip greeted me, and I worked my tongue around, savoring his fertility. We mated as lovers often, but never such as we did on this day each year. Nearly always I was on top, but not this day. The day he revived me, the day my wolf, my Remus took me and filled me with his richness. The day he took me over and I was reborn beneath him.

I grabbed his shoulders and rolled over with him, biting his neck the way he, so close to the full moon, would not dare bite me. Then he turned and slid down my body, sitting on my legs where my pants had fallen, and slipping into me with restrained gasps and groans from both of us.

As he reclaimed me as his lifemate for all times, I didn’t even mind that he sneezed on my back. The spray was cold, invigorating, and just as lush and wet as the other end of him. And I was lost in his touch as he took me over, filling me with thrusts and pulls and an eventual rush of seed. We could not bring another into the world, but we could bring each other back to life. We already had a son, as brave and proud as his father had been, and that son had a new wife already expecting and friends so dear to him as our old pack members had once been to us. Our pack itself had been reborn from him and we would not break out ritual for anything now, especially not a head cold.

He seized up, digging fingers into my back, making me shake with climax, following him as my Alpha. We were paired in everything, always, even with my own package against the cold floor, his warmth came from inside, filling me with all that I needed to release. And we both let out laughs of youth and excitement.

My arms comforted him, taking him against my chest where his tongue licked a nipple in playful gratefulness. “I am sorry…” he said after our heartbeats had settled back down to normal “that this bloody cold slowed me down.”

So it had been his sniffle that had caused the reluctance. “If that was slow, Love, then I’m getting too old for all of this.”

He sniffed and pawed at his nose with two bent fingers. “heh-Ihtchhh! Ihcshhh!” They were wet, and I extended my shirt cuff for him to wipe his nose on. He snuffled a thank you, his brilliant amber eyes glowing, warming me so completely. “As long as we honor the ritual… as long as you let me have you… you’ll never be too old.”

He closed his eyes with a contented sigh and I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly with my pants still down at my knees. “Joyous Lupercalia, my Remus,” I whispered as I saw him off to sleep.


End file.
